ACME at War
by Soul Reaver
Summary: A story about ACME in timeline of my Guns of October fic, through the eyes of several detectives and former detectives. Pls. R&R.
1. Desert Rose

Desert Rose  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own Where on Earth is Carmen Sandiego, but the original characters I create are mine. This takes place in the Guns of October timeframe and is tied into the fanfic Every Clime and Place, I haven't forgotten it in the least. Characters from Guns of October and Every Clime and Place will make appearances. The Special Forces Regiment is divided into six groups (the 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 7th, 9th, 19th and 24th, the last two of which are reserve or territorial units) with each group being divided into four Squadrons (A, B, D, and G) which consist each of four troops of twenty-one men apiece.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: "Ivy, slow down, please, you're talking at thirty miles an hour." Jamie Lynch replied over the phone.  
  
Ivy said, "I've just met this guy, he's staying at our house thanks to my Aunt May and he's amazing."  
  
"Ivy, you sound like a school girl with a crush." Jamie replied, she was twenty two years, the same age as Ivy.  
  
"Ouch, that hurt." Ivy replied, jokingly to her friend.  
  
"Slow down and tell me about him." Jamie began.  
  
"His name's Gene Locksley, from Orlando, Florida. He was wounded at Guadalcanal and my aunt had him discharged from the hospital to live with us." Ivy replied, "He's a nice guy, and kinda cute too..."  
  
Jamie laughed lightly, she had rarely heard Ivy gossip this way about guys in general. "So have you heard anything from Ted lately?"  
  
"He wrote me from Africa recently, but he says that he barely has time to sleep these days." Jamie began, referring to a former colleague, Ted Balfour, a twenty-three year old Englishman who was serving with Army Corps Africa in the 9th Special Forces, the active duty component of the United Systems Special Forces Regiment.  
  
"This war's gotta end." Ivy said, "I'm sick of all these cloak and dagger operations that the Office of Strategic Services has our senior detectives do, I'm sick of Biohazard scares and shelter drills. And I'm sick of losing friends."  
  
Jamie remembered losing fellow ACME detectives, Martin Gallatin, Gerard Fressan, and even Josha, though she wasn't particularly fond of the kid. She knew Gallatin and Fressan from a case she had in Europe when Ted had been sick with the flu. They had helped her track down the stolen copy of the Magna Carta. Gallatin and Fressan were both fighting in North Africa and were members of the 15th Light Infantry Division and had fought through the great disaster of 2142. Both had been killed before the relief had shown up to help them.  
  
"Are you alright hon?" Chris Glen, her boyfriend asked.  
  
"I'm fine, Chris, I just got off the phone with Ivy." Jamie replied, seeming a little under the weather, "We just talked about a few things."  
  
The Australian grinned and said, "I know just how to cheer you up."  
  
Chris swept her into his arms and kissed her, breaking away for air and then deepening the kiss. Jamie melted into his embrace and they cuddled on her apartment couch until they fell asleep.  
  
"I love you Jamie." Chris said as he hugged her close to his side. She smiled and cuddled closer at his reply.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
North Africa, 2143: "Hey Ives, hand me that wrench." Lance Corporal Ted Balfour said from underneath the pinkie, what Special Forces soldiers called their heavily modified armored Land Rover 110s.  
  
"Aye, here you go." Ives replied, he was a short, five foot Scot who was one of Mobility Troop's Marines.  
  
"Thanks." Ted replied, and started tightening a couple bolts under the vehicle chassis. With the North Africa phase of Operation Counterpunch underway the Special Forces had been especially busy with raids, reconnaissance operations, road watches, and an assortment of other tasks.  
  
Mobility Troop primarily operated heavily modified Land Rovers, ATVs, and motorbikes and conducted fast, behind the lines operations on vehicles. Archibald "Archie" Ives and Ted Balfour were members of this troop, belonging to D Squadron. Air Troop were the air assault and parachute unit, Mountain Troop were the mountaineers, and Boat Troop were divers and boaters.  
  
A motorcycle kicked up a cloud of dust, spraying the vehicle with sand. "Bloody desert!" Ted complained.  
  
"Ted, Archie!" said a familiar African accented voice. A short, stocky black man taller than Ives yet shorter than Ted's 5'7" kicked up the stand and pulled off his helmet and goggles, "Mission planning in fifteen minutes."  
  
Edward Mgambe was from the Ivory Coast and a former member of the Cote d'Ivorie Division which had been decimated in 2142 in South America. He joined the Special Forces to avenge his lost friends and colleagues.  
  
"Got it mate, but next time mind the dust you wanker!" Ted shouted from underneath the vehicle.  
  
"It's the desert, what do you expect." Mgambe replied.  
  
"A little more courtesy, like stop further away. You nearly got sand in the oil pan." Ted replied.  
  
"Well your diploma just came for you." Mgambe said.  
  
"Ow! Bloody hell! You made me hit my head!" Ted replied.  
  
"For an educated Englishman you sure swear an awful lot." Ives replied.  
  
"Oh piss off you illiterate Scot!" Ted replied as he crawled out from under the Land Rover and grabbed his khaki desert fatigue shirt and put it back on over his sand brown t-shirt.  
  
"Georgetown University?" Mgambe asked, "I was at MIT when the war broke out and I left to join the fight against the Biohazard. What are you studying?"  
  
"Literature." Ted replied, "With a minor degree in History, I just finished my final exam by mail last month. And I finally graduate."  
  
"A literature student and you can't come up with better insults?" Mgambe laughed.  
  
"Hey amigos, briefing in five!" Private Diego Gandoca shouted to the three soldiers at the Land Rover. He was a slim, fairly lean Costa Rican marathon runner who was an Olympic athlete. Selection had been easy for him.  
  
Diego jumped into the Land Rover with Ives and Ted and Mgambe started up his motorbike as they drove off to the main hangar. 2nd Lieutenant James Closterman had taken one of the hangar's storage spaces and turned it into a briefing room with maps of the North African theater all over the walls, post it notes all around them, and various files lying about the room.  
  
Sergeant First Class "Poet" Poole was the Squadron clerk, a very important position that kept the unit organized. He was a bespectacled Englishman of thirty-seven who had been serving with the Army since he was seventeen. "Sir, here's the brief."  
  
"Alright, there's been quite a few complaints from the 15th Light Infantry and 1st Infantry about enemy artillery bombardments." Closterman began. He was a serious, intelligent Canadian with his blonde hair cut in a West Point flattop, "It's time we do something about it. Insertion?"  
  
"I'd say vehicles sir." Mgambe said as Closterman pointed at him.  
  
"How are we set for ordinance?" Closterman asked, indicating Ted.  
  
"I'll go see what I can't go and dig up sir." Ted replied, "But we're gonna need small arms ammunition, .50 and 7.62 rounds, 40 mm grenades for the Mk.19 launchers and definitely Javelin rockets.  
  
"Logistics." Closterman said.  
  
"I'll help Ted with that, I also think that we should infiltrate at dusk, attack the artillery sites at Artie Alley and exfiltrate around dawn." Tashtego, a Hopi Indian from Flagstaff, Arizona began, "And for vehicles I'd say put out four motorbikes and three Land Rovers, that's all we'll need."  
  
Eighteen men, a big raid for the troop, almost two-thirds of its strength employed on this operation apparently the Artie was a big problem rather than a complaint. "I'll lead you boys in, so put me on one of the bikes. Mgambe, you're my partner for this. Tashtego, you and Blitz go as the second scouting pair. Third scouting pair, Marini and Prideaux I'll let the rest of you sort out arrangements for vehicles. We leave tomorrow night."  
  
"Oi, that's great! We've go' an op to pull, finally!" Private First Class "Blitz" Bollingbroke replied. His Cockney accent certainly was brought out in his speech.  
  
"Bloody Cockneys." Ted replied.  
  
"Bloody Geordies." Blitz remarked. He was so named because he was a motorcycle riding speed freak.  
  
"It could be worse, you could be a bloody Kiwi or an Aussie." Ted replied.  
  
"Oh God!" Staff Sergeant Simms remarked, he was a hulking six foot Marine from California that everyone called the Jolly Gyrene Giant or JG Simms for short, "Not another one of your crazy freaking which part of the British Commonwealth is the best debates?!"  
  
"Actually we 'ere debating which part o' London is the best there, gov'ner." Blitz replied.  
  
"Don't make me do the Henry Higgins My Fair Lady Thing with you Blitz." Simms replied, "And don't call me gov'ner again!"  
  
"And what's wrong with Australians?" Corporal Lars Venkmann shouted from across the room. He was a former mechanical engineer at the age of thirty and was the biggest ladies man in the unit. He had joined the Special Forces at the age of twenty-eight.  
  
Not one to back down Ted replied, "Oh that's easy, you're all a bunch of criminals from Britain, you're all sun burnt to the core, and Australian men are the biggest pigs on God's green earth."  
  
"Oh that's nice, you Englishmen are a bunch of uptight, snobby, effete pricks that need Aussies to fight for you." Lars replied.  
  
"What about the Commando units of World War II, they were a British unit." Ted replied.  
  
"With one Australian at least to lead their sorry asses into battle." Lars replied.  
  
"Shut up you two or this big pissed of Colonial's gonna repeat the Boston Massacre in reverse. The Englishman and the Australian get their asses kicked." Simms replied, good naturedly. He knew the pair were the best of friends but were just kidding around.  
  
"Those morons are going at it again?" Gunnery Sergeant Mike Juarez remarked, he was one of the eight Marines in Mobility Troop, he was a short but heavily muscled fellow who was an avid weight lighter, "If I hear one more debate I'll put both of you on latrine duty for a month."  
  
"Right Gunny, we're not gonna argue." Ted replied.  
  
"Much anyway." Blitz pipped, "Mr. Georgetown big shot."  
  
"I'm not gonna start parading my undergraduate degree like some bloody academic. That's a ton of pig's swallow." Ted replied.  
  
"Why'd you go active before the war started anyway?" Sergeant "Tash" Tashtego asked as he joined the conversation, "Why didn't you stay with ACME?"  
  
"Long story mate." Ted replied.  
  
"It's always a woman isn't it?" Tashtego said. He was often seen as a source of wisdom in the unit, and was called the Chaplain Sergeant because of his approachability and native wisdom and calm.  
  
"How'd you guess?" Ted replied, with only a hint of the angst within, he had to tell his good friend Tash everything now, "Could you do me a favor mate and take this for me."  
  
He handed him an envelope, "If I fall on this op, or any operation, send it."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2140: "Ted? Come in, please." Jamie said.  
  
"I brought out the files on our current case. What do you think?" Ted replied, carrying his notebook brimming with loose sheets of paper under his arm, he also had a bag with two six inch subs and two sodas from Subway.  
  
"I'm still trying to link why Carmen stole Major Koenig's telescopic sight out of all the Russian military memorabilia she could have stolen out of the Moscow Red Army History Museum to Capitaine Danjou's wooden hand...Aside from the obvious fact that their from soldiers."  
  
"Defeated soldiers." Ted replied, "Danjou and Koenig have in common that they were bested by their foes. Though motive's gonna be difficult to determine.  
  
Ted looked around at the pictures on her desk. He was glad that he had met and was privileged to know such a wonderful young woman. They had been assigned together two years ago, with Ted being the more senior detective of the pair by one year. Throughout the time he had fallen in love with this kindhearted young woman from the Midwestern United States. Ted was usually a shy, introverted Englishman who liked to work alone and initially resented being partnered up with another detective, but he found he didn't mind the partnership after their first couple cases.  
  
"Those are my brothers." Jamie remarked, "The oldest one is starting his sophomore year at my old high school."  
  
"Catholic high school?" Ted asked.  
  
"Yeah. What about you?" Jamie asked.  
  
"I was educated by Anglican Nuns until I was graduated early because I passed the ACME screening test." Ted replied, "And the Irish sisters were the strictest, I think they liked beating up on the Englishmen."  
  
"Very funny." Jamie replied, "I think Jesuits are egalitarian."  
  
"Not if their Scottish, Welsh, or Irish, they really don't like British school kids." Ted remarked.  
  
"You're getting that persecuted Englishman complex again." Jamie laughed.  
  
"Thanks for your sympathy." Ted replied wryly. Inside he was waiting for the moment to ask her out Saturday night; it was just a matter on how to work it into the conversation. He handed her one of the sandwiches, "Chicken Caesar wrap, just how you order it."  
  
"Thanks Ted," Jamie said, smiling back, "You're always nice to me. Have you met my boyfriend, Chris Glen? You remind me of him so much."  
  
Ted did his best to seem unaffected, "No I haven't, well I've got some other matters to attend to. See you at work tomorrow."  
  
"See you Ted." Jamie replied.  
  
Ted walked back to his room in the dorm where the ACME detectives that didn't live in San Francisco resided. He picked up the phone and called his Squadron Admin Officer, "Yes, this is Corporal Balfour, I'd like to transfer into the active Special Forces from the 19th Special Forces, Territorial."  
  
The next morning, after breakfast, Ted sat at his desk, nursing his metal Territorial Special Forces coffee cup, which had the stamping of a skull wearing a green beret with a dagger vertically intersecting it, with a snake around it bearing the words Motivated, Dedicated, Lethal above it and the unit motto De Oppresso Liber below. It was a gift Jamie had given him on his 19th birthday, the day before he left to run the Territorial Selection.  
  
"Hey Ted," Jamie beamed, taking her seat at the adjacent desk, "What's up?"  
  
"There's something I've been meaning to say." Ted replied, "I've been thinking a lot about going active for quite some time."  
  
Jamie knew that Ted was a reservist, or a territorial, and had for the last six months been in the 19th Special Forces Group. She didn't know he was leaving because he was in love with her. Still the thought of him leaving, the guy that other ACME detectives said was as solid as a rock and the perpetual nice guy, was like a physical blow.  
  
"Why?" Jamie asked.  
  
"Jamie, there's a war brewing about, the colonies are being consumed by it and it's only a matter of time before Earth gets its share. If I'm gonna take care of the people I love, I'm gonna have to do this." Ted replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2140: The thirty-five pounds of weight in the bergen (rucksack) on Ted's back made him grunt with exertion as he ran wearing full fatigues (t-shirt, olive drab trousers, shirt, boots, and jacket) through the spring sun of the Welsh countryside. He could feel his old sores and abrasions from the pack straps opening up and he was going again to the orderly shed to get them fixed up and keep going.  
  
Ted knew that he had to stay this route. The Directing Staff, or the instructors, were waiting at the middle and end of this five mile run were gatekeepers and also safety observers to make sure candidates didn't injure themselves. Accidents still happened though. During a Winter Selection a lieutenant got lost in the snowy mountains and died.  
  
"You gonna give up Balfour!?" Captain Day; or Captain Daybitch as the candidates called him because he was seen as the hard ass among the Directing Staff.  
  
"No sir!" Balfour shouted defiantly, "I've got nowhere left to go!"  
  
"Well then! Get the lead out if you want to pass this run!" Day shouted. Ted knew that he had two and a half more miles of this five mile field pack run to go and he knew he couldn't bear to be RTU'd (Returned to Unit) back to the Territorial Special Forces because he couldn't bear with what he left at ACME.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2140: While on case in Britain, Zack and Ivy visited Stirling Lines, one of the areas where Special Forces Selection was run. They watched as several trucks pulled up and the exhausted Special Forces candidates staggered toward the medical shed for an examination and then to the mess hall for dinner and some brief hours of personal time and sleep.  
  
They saw Ted wander by. His eyes were glassy and sunken from all the exertion he had put through from the five-mile pack run, the twenty-five minute or better three mile run in boots and fatigues, and all the pull- ups, pushups, bar dips, situps, and other exercises that he had done that day.  
  
He grinned at them tiredly when he saw them in the camp as he walked with his bergen still on his back, leaning forward to ease off a bit of weight. In the moonlight as well as the artificial light, they could see Selection's toll on the men enduring her.  
  
"He's lost weight." Ivy observed.  
  
"They all have." Zack replied, indicating a soldier whose uniform fit in a baggy way on his frame, "It's like a procession of the walking dead."  
  
"And the hardest nine weeks of your life." Ted replied, his Selection still had three weeks to run, "They've already weeded out fifty-eight percent of the class."  
  
Ted still had his pack on and hunched forward noticeably because of the weight. He picked up his canteen from his belt and took a long slug of water. "I'm doing this to keep all of you at ACME safe. A man hath no greater love than to lay his life down for his friends."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: "You really must have cared for her if you were willing to go through Selection again instead of waiting to be called up like most Territorial SF guys do." Tashtego began.  
  
"I did." Ted replied. If Territorials wanted to go into the active duty Special Forces Groups they had to go through the active duty Selection. The Territorial version wasn't easy in itself, it took a special type of soldier to get through Territorial SF Selection but many of the active duty guys liked to call the Territorials bootleg troopers. If Earth had an emergency that required activation all Territorials would be activated and the Territorial Special Forces would all be activated, put through an intensive schooling and conditioning phase, and integrated into the active units.  
  
Ted hefted a box of 40mm grenades into the back of one of the Land Rovers, the designated cargo vehicle as he spoke, "I love her enough to let her choose her path, and they looked so happy together I just couldn't interfere. So I had to leave."  
  
The ammunition was being loaded into the vehicles and the vehicles themselves were being checked for any last minute problems. The North African sun was due to set in half an hour.  
  
"Ted, sorry about your lass back in America," Ives said, "But know we're there for you."  
  
"Thanks mate, I really appreciate it." Ted replied.  
  
"Besides, if you die I'd love to get my hands on those new lighter and stronger paratrooper boots you bought last week." Ives replied.  
  
"You're out of my will you wanker." Ted laughed, "And any rate, you're feet are too damned small."  
  
"Bollocks mate," Archie Ives replied, "You know we have the same shoe sizes."  
  
"I know I was kidding." Ted replied.  
  
"Bon voyage!" Kowalski, a Polish trooper in Air Troop, shouted, "We'll take care of your gear for you here and your girlfriends back home."  
  
Simms shot him a finger, "Laugh it up Pollock!"  
  
"I will! For once the Slavs have the last laugh!" Kowalski shouted. A bunch of Air Troop guys were humming the melody to a funeral dirge as they wandered among the Land Rovers.  
  
"Any parting words." Sergeant Major Jason Vecchio, the Squadron Sergeant Major of D Squadron, said. The Proof of Life videos were always done before operations, troops going on ops always gave their two cents to a video camera.  
  
"Staff Sergeant Rodney Simms, US Marine Corps. Sarah, honey, be sure you tuck the kids in tonight and tell them not to forget their old man loves them."  
  
"Aw, isn't 'hat swee' Big Daddy Simms...." Blitz began, "Private First Class Bobby "Blitz" Bollingbroke, US Army. I just did Selection and now at nineteen years old I'm goin' out 'o kick some arse!"  
  
"If you call me Big Daddy Simms one more time I'm shoving that camera up where the sun don't shine!"  
  
"Sergeant Tashtego, US Army. I am the Great Spirit's Revenge." Tashtego said with his trademark serene Indian grin.  
  
"You might as well believe in the tooth fairy!" Ives shot in, "His Great Spirit's Ronald McDonald and his two chief exercises are eating and drinking."  
  
"Hah hah Ives, the shorty who likes to hit on women twice his height!" Tashtego kidded back.  
  
"Lance Corporal Archibald Ives, USMC, pay nay any attention to that big hulking redskin over there. I'm short, but I'm good looking, fun and available."  
  
"Gunnery Sergeant Miguel Juarez, USMC. I've about had it with those crazy Brits in the Squadron." Juarez said with a grin.  
  
"Gunny! I resent you saying I'm a Brit!" Ives shouted.  
  
"Corporal Lars Venkmann, US Army. Don't mind the bloody Marines around me. They're great bullet sponges."  
  
"HEY!" came the collective shout from the Marines in the unit.  
  
"Did I say that aloud?" Lars replied.  
  
"Yes you did." Mgambe began, "Lance Corporal Edward Mgambe, US Army. I wish good fortune upon my family on the Ivory Coast."  
  
"How touching, and sickening." Lars shot in.  
  
"Lance Corporal Ted Balfour, US Army. For Henry! England! And Saint George!" Ted replied.  
  
"Not to mention Detective Lynch!" Diego blurted. The kid had served a brief tour with ACME uniformed services before going into the Special Forces and was a slight acquaintance of Ted's.  
  
"Oh shut your trap Diego!" Ted shouted.  
  
"Private Diego Gandoca. I'm nineteen, Costa Rican, good looking and single. What more could a woman want?"  
  
"Probably some facial hair." Ted replied.  
  
At this, the others roared with laughter as Diego fired back, "Probably you need a girlfriend. I do know a few senioritas in my village who'd love to have an educated Englishman with a degree from Georgetown."  
  
"Burn in hell you wanker!" Ted shot back, smiling.  
  
"2nd Lieutenant James Closterman, US Army. Mobility Troop Commander, though sometimes I feel like I run a three ringed circus with these clowns."  
  
"You do sir!" Lars replied, snapping off a smart salute after coming to attention. The others were rolling up in laughter.  
  
"Private First Class Franz Drache, US Army. I'm a hell of a driver on the auto bahn in Germany."  
  
"A hell of a terrible driver that is!" Warrant Officer Poole shouted to the slim bodied blonde haired German.  
  
"Go screw yourself Poole." Drache replied.  
  
"Warrant Officer Joseph Seth Utterson, US Army." Utterson replied, his clipped British accent obvious.  
  
"Otherwise known as El Supremo!" Corporal Haste Lanyon, patrol medic, remarked.  
  
"Tell me why you left medical school again. Oh, doing your patriotic duty to the military. You bloody wanker." Utterson replied.  
  
"Corporal Haste Lanyon, US Marines, pay no attention to that ungodly drunk earlier." Lanyon replied. He was a fellow in his late twenties with longish brown hair, long sideburns and a goatee, he looked more a punk rocker than a medic. He had quit medical school to serve his nation when the Biohazard hit Earth in 2141.  
  
"You're his drinking buddy dude." Said a longish haired fellow wearing a peace symbol on his dog tags.  
  
"Shut up you bleeing Yank hippie do gooder!" Lanyon replied.  
  
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that dude, you gotta be totally mellow and with the flow, you know." The man replied, "Lance Corporal Stoney Brown, US Army. I'm from Encino California, I'm mellow, personable and from the 82nd Airborne Division."  
  
"Shut up you bloody stoner! And you're not mellow when you're handling machineguns or rockets." Lanyon shot back, with a slightly sour expression.  
  
The camera panned around to another man, "Lance Corporal David Morgan, US Army. Stoney's my best friend, sadly, but other than that I do say that the 82nd is the best unit in the Army."  
  
"Hell no!" a loud Slavic voice sounded, "Lance Corporal Linkovich Chumovsky, US Army. The 101st Airborne Division all the way baby!!!"  
  
"I do believe that the best unit is the 1st Air Cavalry." A voice sounded.  
  
"Oh shut up Jew!" Link replied.  
  
"I'll pretend I didn't hear that." The bespectacled Jewish soldier grinned, good naturedly, he knew Link was kidding, "Private First Class Adam Whitehurst, US Army, 1st Air Cavalry. American soccer to the World Cup!"  
  
"No, Italian soccer!" shouted another man, "Lance Corporal Mario Enrico Marini, USMC, Italian soccer shall take the world cup."  
  
"Not if French Soccer gets them first. Louis Prideaux, USMC. Avignon, France."  
  
"Frenchmen can't fight!" Drache shouted.  
  
Ted got into the driver's seat of his Land Rover; he was lead vehicle, behind the two motorbike scouts in front and in close contact with the two motorbike flankers as they drove in a loose formation out of the FOB (Forward Operating Base) to enemy lines. Ives was in the passenger seat as navigator with Lars manning the twin fifty caliber machineguns in the back and Lanyon manning the MG-70 light machinegun facing aft as well as handling the ammunition.  
  
Ted started whistling the melody to Desert Rose as he started his vehicle up. Behind him Gandoca was driving the command vehicle that had Simms sitting in it, relaying intelligence that Closterman would find to the other members of the unit via two way radios. Rounding that vehicle out were Whitehurst and Link.  
  
Stoney, Dave, Gunny, and Drache had the last Land Rover. Gunny said, "Great I've got the stoner and his best friend and a living auto accident. Honey, please cash my life insurance policy right now."  
  
The vehicles headed in a phalanx out into the North African desert to take the war to the enemy who was weakening steadily in Africa.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Chris tucked Jamie into her bed, removing her sneakers and pulling her blankets up to her neck. He kissed her forehead and she smiled serenely as he walked off, turning the lights off and closing the door. As he walked out of her apartment he noticed a framed picture of four soldiers clustered around a modified Land Rover 110 painted desert tan. One of them he recognized as Ted Balfour the other three he didn't. He did read the message written under it, "Jamie, Cheers from the desert. Ted. G Squadron, October 11, 2141."  
  
He remembered the date was when Josha had been killed at El Mechili with the 91st Armored Division. He didn't particularly like Josha, thinking him immature and obsessive, despite his great intelligence. But he did know that Ted had befriended the kid despite that and helped him cope with his unrequited affections for Ivy. He also knew, from one of the few letters home from Ted that Jamie let him see, that Ted had seen his friend die that day.  
  
"Why would any sane man want to have a job like that?" Chris asked, "I guess I'll never know."  
  
Truth was, Chris felt a little jealous of how often Jamie received letters from Ted that she never shared with him unless she'd already read them. He understood that it was her own business, but he always felt like Ted was a rival of some sort, that he had feelings for Jamie but was too much of a gentleman to interfere with her happiness.  
  
Little did he know how right he was, as he walked out of the apartment, straight into Ivy's path. "Sorry Ivy, I didn't mean to run into you luv." Chris replied.  
  
"Shouldn't you be calling Jamie that?" Ivy joked.  
  
"It's just an Australian expression, we say that to any women that are close friends. (AN: Not entirely sure about that one)." Chris replied, he seemed a little under the weather about the fact that Jamie had quite a few of Ted's snapshots from Africa and Europe around her apartment and only a few of him.  
  
He told Ivy about the pictures and saw an uncharacteristic feminine grin coming from the normal workaholic he knew, "Don't worry about it. Jamie's just a good friend of Ted's. He sends us pictures from where he is all the time."  
  
Ivy deliberately avoided telling Chris how she'd guessed the real reason Ted decided to leave the Territorial SF and ACME. She respected Ted's privacy too much to do that.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2140: Ivy watched as Ted drank down his water thirstily. She could see his compass hanging off his webbing and noticed a small wallet sized photograph taped tightly to the underside. She could see a picture of a woman with short, chestnut brown hair, rich brown eyes and a light tan complexion. It was Jamie's picture.  
  
It all came together that one instant. Ted's recent brooding mood, the decision he made to leave ACME and become an active duty SF trooper, the picture taped under his compass. He was in love with her best friend and it was hurting him that she didn't share his feelings. It hurt him so badly that he had to flee to an active combat unit to deal with the grief.  
  
Zack noticed it too, because as Ted walked away he said, "Why didn't he tell her?"  
  
"She's seeing Chris, Zack, maybe he didn't want to interfere with her happiness. That's just like Ted, putting others before himself." Ivy replied.  
  
"Yeah, I guess that's why he looks like his soul's been drained away." Zack replied.  
  
"Running around with all that gear will do it too Zack." Ivy replied, knowing that Ted was suffering some serious hurt.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: "Ivy," Zack said, he had been nearby when she and Chris had talked, "Don't you think Ted should tell her how he feels?"  
  
"That's up to Ted to decide." Ivy replied.  
  
"I know that." Zack replied, "I'm eighteen but I'm not stupid Ive."  
  
"I know little bro," Ivy replied, rumpling his blonde hair, "But I know its Ted's decision."  
  
"Does he really think running away is the right solution? That doesn't sound like the Ted that I remember. You know the Ted who would run through a burning building to save a friend in a heartbeat." Zack replied, "He should tell her he loves her."  
  
"You know how much Ted values his friendships, if he lost her friendship because he failed in love it would really kill him." Ivy replied.  
  
"It killed Josha for sure." Zack replied, "I mean, he ran into the Army with Gallatin, Pilgrim, and that whole gang because...."  
  
Zack stopped because he saw tears starting to form in Ivy's green eyes, one of the rare times he ever saw his tough big sis ever break down. Josha had written a letter that he trusted to Ted's care when they'd shipped out to North Africa together. The letter told Ivy everything he felt about her, that he was too shy to tell her how he felt, and was afraid she'd reject him.  
  
While Ivy wasn't in love with Josha, just a friend, it still hurt to know he was dead. He got along well with Ted because they suffered the same problem of unrequited and unspoken love. The only difference was that Josha died in battle before he could say anything.  
  
"Maybe we should tell her." Zack said, "Let her know Ted's fallen for her."  
  
"And ruin his friendship with her, he'd hate us forever." Ivy replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: Ted held the Stingray Mk. II Paratrooper Carbine with one hand and the steering wheel of the Land Rover with the other. The world looked green through the NOD (Night Observation Device) he wore on his face. They were coming up on the enemy energy orb projection battery pretty fast. Without a sound, Mgambe and Closterman indicated that they were ready to lead the Land Rovers in.  
  
Ted floored the gas pedal as they drove into the enemy encampment where ogres loaded energy orbs and Gollums directed fire. Suddenly ribbons of tracers and 40mm grenades exploded into their midst. A 40mm bomb landed in a pile of energy orbs, exploding and flashing the sky light as day.  
  
In the light Ted could see two Gollums running at the Land Rover with a portable energy orb projector. He fired his carbine on full auto and raked them with a long burst of gunfire. He could hear the twin fifties firing steadily as Lars tore a cluster of ogres apart.  
  
He could see Simms' Land Rover putting a pair of 40mm grenades into a technical (civilian vehicles the Gollums modify for raids similar to this against human forces). The modified Toyota pick up truck exploded in a flash. He saw Whitehurst shooting 40mm grenades in rapid succession at enemy artillery pieces, clusters of enemy troops and piles of ammo.  
  
Just as quickly as they came, the raiders drove off into the desert leaving fifty seven dead enemy and times two wounded in their drive by shooting. Two more occurred during the night leaving a total of 200 zombies, ogres, and Gollums dead on the desert sands.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
To be continued: Please be patient, I've got a million ideas in my head I'm trying to sort out. Please R&R. 


	2. Of Faith and Man

Of Faith and Man Disclaimer: Same as before...The prayer Ted says is called the Parachutist's Prayer and was written by Andre Zirnheld, SAS, who was killed on July 26, 1941 and it was found on his body. Sorry if any of you guys aren't religious...  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: Ted awoke almost automatically before 0900 (9 AM) on any Sunday morning. Less than four hours ago the eighteen men of Mobility Troop had returned home from a mission where three enemy artillery positions had been silenced. He picked up his carbine and webbing because of the proximity of the hangar to the frontline. He headed over to a tent where Chaplain Reinhold was holding Catholic Sunday Mass.  
  
"I bring this prayer to You, Lord. For You alone can give. What one cannot demand from oneself. Give me, Lord, what you have left over, give me what no-one ever asks You for. I don't ask You for rest, or quiet." Ted prayed as he knelt down after Communion.  
  
His life right now certainly wasn't restful or quiet. And he certainly asked God for things no one ever asked for. Even before the Biohazard hit Earth and even before he had volunteered for Selection he had no rest or quiet, ever since he learned that Jamie didn't share his feelings things had been painful. Leaving seemed the best solution, and he still kept in contact, there was a half written letter by his cot.  
  
Even though they never dated, he still missed her friendship, missed speaking to her, but he knew had lost and the Special Forces were all he had remaining to him, "Whether of soul or body; I don't ask You for wealth, nor for success, nor even health perhaps. That sort of thing You get asked for so much that You can't have any of it left. Give me, Lord, what you have left over, give me what no-one wants from you."  
  
Hell, nobody wants heartache, suffering, or anything of that sort. But as the Colonel told him, "Grandson, the life of a Special Forces soldier is often lonely and entails much suffering."  
  
Ted continued his prayer, "I want insecurity, strife, And I want You to give me these once and for all. That I can be sure of having them always, since I shall not always have the courage to ask You for them."  
  
Ted had to smile as he remembered his grandfather, Colonel Charles I. Balfour, US Army, 2nd Special Forces Group commanding officer. The old man was an influence on two generations of the Balfour family, first on his father, Sergeant Major Michael Balfour, and himself, Lance Corporal Ted Balfour. The man may have been crippled by a stroke years before Ted had been born, but looking into the man's eyes you could see the almost imperial visage of the proud, strong warrior he might have been. Ted had memorized the prayer he was saying when he was eight, at the behest of the Colonel as all of his grandchildren called him out of respect. Sadly the Colonel had died three days before Ted had gone to Basic Training when he was seventeen.  
  
"Give me, Lord, what You have left over, Give me what others want nothing to do with. But give me courage too, and strength and faith; For You alone can give what one cannot demand from oneself." Ted concluded, "Amen, and thank you sir for disciplining my mind, body, and soul."  
  
Ted had to grin lightly at that, the last line was one he would have to say whenever the Colonel punished him for any sort of childhood transgression after he flawlessly would recite the prayer. He kept a copy of that prayer taped inside his uniform at all times, ever since he was with the 20th Light Infantry Division (Territorial Reserves), as a boy soldier of seventeen.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: Sitting in Starbucks, Zack, Ivy, Gene Locksley, Armando, and Tatiana were clustered around a table. "So let me get this straight," Gene Locksley began, "This Ted Balfour character's been in love with Detective Lynch since they started working together and when she mentioned she was seeing someone he ran off to join the Special Forces?"  
  
"You hit the nail on the head Gene." Ivy said, leaning closer to him. They had been getting pretty close in the two months he had spent living in their house during his convalescence.  
  
"Can't things get any stranger?" Gene asked.  
  
"Yeah, they can." Sammy Medina groaned. He was twenty-three and Ted's male best friend at ACME. They had worked together until Sammy transferred into the research and development team as a vehicle test driver after the National Bank hostage incident.  
  
He was a skinny fellow with longish hair and a mustache. He was also called, "The Playboy Detective" by Ted. He was so named because he was an incurable flirt, jumping from one shallow little relationship or one night stand to the next. He rarely had a relationship that lasted more than a month. He always wore an Indy 500 jacket, and race t-shirts and jeans almost everywhere.  
  
"So how was last night?" Armando asked, "You gotta teach me to be a chick magnet like you."  
  
"It was great. Lola was excellent, as usual, but I don't recommend the tequila sunrises I drank at the pub where I met her." Sammy replied.  
  
"That's unhealthy. You're stringing along, what three girls at the same time now?" Tatiana replied.  
  
"Four actually, Lola, Chrissy, Jane, and Meghan." Sammy said, proudly.  
  
"And you're proud of that?" Tatiana asked, "You're impersonating that Fozzie fellow from Happy Days..."  
  
"That's Fonzie, not Fozzie." Zack corrected.  
  
"Sorry I never watched much TV in Russia." Tatiana replied.  
  
"Remember that night two years ago you came back with a black eye?" Zack asked, "May I ask what that was all about?"  
  
"Ted, surprisingly, lost his temper. He does have quite a short fuse at times." Sammy replied.  
  
"What happened?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Well, let's see, we were at a pub that night Martin came back for a couple months to attend sniper school at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. I took a C-5 trip and persuaded him to spend his forty-eight hour pass in San Francisco...."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2141: "Hey Ted, you should spend that forty-eight hour pass in San Francisco." Sammy said.  
  
"Maybe Sammy, maybe." Ted replied, "I write you guys all the time, I also call every time we get a satellite phone link into the camp, which is once a week."  
  
"C'mon, we all miss you back at ACME. Come on back and see us." Sammy said, "Most soldiers would want to go home after they'd spent over eight months in some pissant desert."  
  
"I'm Special Forces, not most like soldiers you know." Ted replied.  
  
"Yeah right. You do wanna go see us again. I mean we've known you for years Ted, drop the Special Forces guy act for a while and show us the Nice Guy Ted again." Sammy replied.  
  
"What, you're implying I'm not a nice guy?" Ted replied, offended.  
  
"Nah! Not at all! I mean despite all that kill people with your bare hands, jump outta planes, and drive around in modified Land Rovers, and rappel from skimmers stuff you're still the guy who'd help an old lady across the street in a heartbeat." Sammy replied, "And besides we all want to see your face again."  
  
"Alright. I'll come back."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Starbucks, 2143: "So what happened after?" Gene asked.  
  
"Well we went out to the pub to shoot the breeze over what we'd missed on each others lives and had a couple drinks. Well a couple of those Crimenet pricks walked in that night..."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2141: Ted and Sammy sat at the bar at the Rose and Crown Pub on Main Street. "This is nice. Is it new?" Ted replied.  
  
"Yeah, apparently the new owners were on a British kick and they actually imported half the furniture and pictures straight from the UK." Sammy said.  
  
"This is bloody amazing mate, I feel like I'm back in London again." Ted replied.  
  
"And coolest is how half the waitresses around here are not only good looking, but their nice British girls...." Sammy began.  
  
Ted fixed him with a half malevolent glare, Sammy continued, "What did I say?"  
  
"Quit with the one night stand schemes, I'm not interested." Ted replied.  
  
"Dude, I'm just trying to get your conservative British behind laid." Sammy replied, "What, you want the relationship angle? Jeez man, you're such a sap sometimes."  
  
"Watch it mate," Ted joked, "Otherwise this sap is gonna use some of those 'man-killing' skills to throw your arse across the bar."  
  
Two Crimenet guys walked in just then. They were ACME's hotshot paramilitary SWAT unit. However more often than not there was a lot of friction between the two units. The Crimenet guys tended to think the ACME guys were a bunch of highly intelligent and glorified school kids playing detective while Crimenet guys were seen by ACME detectives as abrasive and tactless meatheads. The two that walked into the bar were Sergeant Jon Vasquez and Moe O'Bannon.  
  
"Hey, isn't that Ted Balfour?" O'Bannon asked, "One of the few ACME guys we actually kinda liked."  
  
"Yeah, that's him alright." Vasquez replied, "The guy who could've been crime net material."  
  
Vasquez was a chunky, bespectacled Puerto Rican fellow with a grown in shaved head. Ted had taken to calling him one of two names, either Chia-Cop in reference to his haircut, or El General because of his arrogant nature. Ted had nothing but contempt for most of the Crimenet guys because of their overbearing nature.  
  
"I see you blokes haven't caught Carmen yet." Ted remarked, sipping his room temperature beer, "You remfs (rear-echelon mother f--ers) can't even catch the common cold."  
  
"Ha ha," Jon said, "So what's up Balfour?"  
  
"Nothing really mate." Ted replied. Those two were the ones who always tried to recruit him into Crimenet.  
  
"Beat it Medina." O'Bannon demanded of Sammy.  
  
"Hey dickers (British Army slang for IRA operatives, an insult), if he goes, I go." Ted replied, "Barkeep, give me tab."  
  
"Wait, cancel that. I suppose Sammy can stick about. Bartender, one round of Heineken on me." Vasquez replied.  
  
"Right, so what's up?" Ted replied. He was a casual acquaintance with these guys sometimes at ACME, if nothing else to gather Crimenet tips before other detectives did when his own investigative methods failed. The way they carried on sometimes would make people think they were drinking buddies. For all Crimenet's faults they had a solid intelligence network ACME envied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: "So Crimenet showed up, what's the big deal. They're geekwads and we smarter." Zack said, "Ugh, me from Crimenet. Me big stupid barbarian...."  
  
Everyone chuckled over the comment and Sammy said, "Well that's when Jamie walked by the pub with her family, and from our seats at the bar we could all see her."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2141: "Man, that's a hot chick right there." Vasquez remarked, "Jamie Lynch is definitely hot."  
  
"Watch your tongue mate." Ted remarked, with a flash of controlled anger.  
  
"Dude, you worked with her for two years. Don't even try to say you haven't thought of....." O'Bannon began.  
  
"Oh c'mon. Don't tell me you wouldn't..." Vasquez began.  
  
"You'd best shut up right now about her or I'll break both your necks." Ted replied.  
  
"He's serious guys." Sammy said, putting himself between them and trying to push O'Bannon back.  
  
"Bad idea!" O'Bannon growled and punched Sammy in the eye, "So you want to fight now you English prick! Did I ever tell you my old man was Irish!"  
  
"Really mate, I never figured it out." Ted said, slowly and as soon as he said out he kicked O'Bannon between the legs and gut punched him. The big Irish man fell over in a tangle of arms, legs and Sammy's barstool. Vasquez broke a bottle and cocked his arm back. He barley even had time to do so before Ted knee kicked him in the groin and elbowed him in the throat.  
  
"I warned you wankers!" Ted replied, and walked out of the pub.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: "So that's why Suhara had to bail the four of you out of the lockup." Zack grinned, "I did think it was funny when you said you walked into a door."  
  
"Did Jamie see?" Ivy said.  
  
"No, she'd walked by a long time ago. She did ask me two days later what happened and I said Vasquez and O'Bannon were drunk, started a fight and Ted and I just finished it." Sammy replied.  
  
"I guess that's why Ted went back to Fort Bragg post haste." Armando said, "He barely said more than a few words to us before saying he had more commitments at the sniper school and North Africa."  
  
"She probably would have thought it was sweet, Ted getting into a fight for her honor." Tatiana mused, "That's so romantic."  
  
"That's so unlike Ted, losing his temper like that." Sammy replied.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: The North African desert nights were and still are as cold as the North African days are hot. Ted wrapped a heavy Bedouin desert robe around his frame as he hefted his Lacrima-99 Pulse Rifle with the M-206 40mm grenade launcher (often called the 206 for short) bolted under it. His webbing and extra magazines were still accessible, and he was warm. The Arab shamag head cloth Zack had sent him three weeks ago was a marked improvement over the standard issue stocking cap that he usually wore on night watches, he still wore the cap but had the shamag (the head cover worn by Arab men) over the top, preventing more heat from escaping.  
  
He was on wire watch, meaning he would be walking a lonely sentry post along the chain-link fence topped by spools of razor and concertina wire. He was responsible for the areas nearest the hangar. Other units, which included an MP detachment and a K-9 unit, also provided perimeter security.  
  
The vehicle watches were driving about the camp perimeter every half hour with three men each manning two Land Rovers. The proximity of the Forward Manning Base to the frontline wasn't as close as the Forward Operating Base, but throughout the campaign the enemy had a nasty habit of attacking positions behind the line. Especially if the positions were occupied by the Special Forces that often made a habit of sneaking into their territory and killing them.  
  
He could see Ives plodding along with his 206 and webbing. He could tell it was Ives by his height and the fact that he had Rowdy, one of the six K- 9s assigned to the squadron. The Squadron Quartermaster Sergeant, Staff Sergeant Doyle, had decided to requisition six K-9s for the unit before it shipped off to Africa.  
  
Ives was one of the six qualified handlers in the unit, and Rowdy was his German Shepard. He was walking on the outermost end of the perimeter, using the K-9 to hopefully spot enemy troops before they attacked. Ted nodded to the Scotsman, who nodded back, as they passed each other on their patrol. Sentry duty was a lonely, boring, and dangerous yet necessary job.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: Jamie smiled as she opened the letter Ted had sent her. She could see a couple of those snapshots from Germany he'd promised but forgot to send a couple weeks ago. Those were taken when he took the mountain rescue course in the Alps four months prior, back in May. She'd just gotten back from Mass, so she hadn't changed out of her Sunday best yet. She was still wearing her black slacks and her short sleeved light blue blouse.  
  
She read the text of the letter as she sat on her couch:  
  
19 September, 2143  
  
Dear Jamie,  
  
Things on the front have been pretty hectic and I've barely been getting much in the way of sleep. You said you ran into Abu Parhouz, from B Squadron in your last letter. Send the lad my regards, and if he says the Saudi soccer team's taking the World Cup, tell him that Britain's gonna wipe the field with them. "For Harry! England! And St. George!" (She had to smile at the last one. Ted had been raised on both sides of the Atlantic, so he had a taste for both baseball and soccer.)  
  
Anyhoo, if he's still miffed over the x-lax incident, tell him to get over it. Also, if he should mention something called the XXX Incident I had no part in it!  
  
Give everyone my regards, and tell them to keep sending me stuff, care packages are great. I hope that my snapshots get through alright. Thanks for the fuzzy dice you sent over last time, I hung them from the mosquito net in my cot. I did get everyone's birthday cards.  
  
Cheers from the Desert,  
  
Ted  
  
The paper was yellowed a bit and had some loose sand in it. Ted wasn't joking about how dusty Africa was. She was so engrossed in the letter that she didn't hear Chris walking into her apartment, using his key until he plopped down on the couch beside her.  
  
"From Ted, luv?" Chris asked.  
  
Jamie folded the letter closed and turned towards her boyfriend, "Used your key?"  
  
"Yeah, I was wondering why you weren't at reception. Usually you, Ivy, and Zack and the others are all gabbing away about something." Chris replied.  
  
"Ivy forgot to give me Ted's latest letter on Friday, I had to read it." Jamie replied.  
  
"So what's the story with Ted?" Chris asked.  
  
"He's one of my good friends at ACME, as well as my first partner." Jamie replied.  
  
"The way you carry on about him sometimes, you'd swear he had a thing for you." Chris replied.  
  
"I don't know about that. He always tells me I'm one of his best friends, but I don't think there's anything more than that." Jamie replied.  
  
"Then I've got nothing to worry about then, luv." Chris said, laying his head in her lap, unexpectedly.  
  
Jamie was startled at first, "You don't."  
  
The doorbell rang just then and Chris stood up to answer it. "Hey Ivy, how's it going?"  
  
"Is Jamie in? We're going to brunch, you guys wanna come along." Ivy said.  
  
"How 'bout it luv?" Chris asked.  
  
"Sounds good." Jamie said, "Give me a few minutes to get changed."  
  
"Take your time." Chris said.  
  
Ivy certainly liked Chris, he was a caring, attentive boyfriend to Jamie, but at the same time she felt sorry for Ted. But then again, he didn't act on the feelings he had for her when he had the chance. It was pretty sad though, Ted always seemed to be somewhere on the other side of the world all the time. It was obvious he loved Jamie, but couldn't be with her, so he only knew to run away. Part of Ivy wished Ted would fight for the woman he loved, but another part knew Ted was too much of a gentleman to interfere in Jamie's happiness, even if it meant the cost of his own.  
  
"I guess I'm not much of a romantic." Ivy commented to herself, "Keep faith Ted, you'll find someone eventually."  
  
Ivy could see why Ted had run away. Jamie and Chris seemed so content together, and they did make a cute couple. Maybe it was for the best that Ted was out of the picture for now. Ivy watched as Jamie picked up her purse and let Chris help her into her jacket. If Ted saw this, his heart would come apart completely.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: "What am I supposed to tell her, God? Do you really think she'll respond favorably to, 'Jamie, for about ¾ of the time I've known you I've been in love with you'? She'll give me the cold shoulder and I don't think I could take it." Ted whispered to himself into the lonely African night.  
  
The desert stretched for miles without features, save for dunes and the occasional wadi or oasis. "Besides she's got Chris, she doesn't need me in the least. At most I'm probably just a friend who's just a tad more attentive than most of them. At the worse I'm probably just yet another fellow who's developed a crush on her. I guess the Colonel would be pretty ticked off at me over this. 'Remember grandson; never date anyone you work with.' He always said. He never seemed to take into account that hearts have other ideas."  
  
"Well haven't you heard a damned word I said?" Ted continued, "Haven't I been hurt enough?"  
  
A pair of lamplike eyes near the fence line stopped Ted in his tracks. He saw the Gollum sapper putting something next to the fence. Ted raised his 206 on the creature resembling old Gollum from the Hobbit and squeezed off two rounds into the area around the glowing eyes. He was rewarded with a guttural grunt of pain and the sound of a body flopping into the sands.  
  
The shots woke everyone in the area and half dressed soldiers ran out to the slit trenches with weapons at the ready. A lone ogre came charging over the dune, wielding a crude battle axe in one hand and a crude explosive in the other. It was shot to pieces about five yards from the fence by about fifteen different weapons. It was something straight out of a horror movie, first the creature's axe hand fell away as a burst of gunfire from an MG- 70. Ted saw a cameraman and a reporter standing in the open.  
  
"You bloody jackasses! Get down!" Ted shouted and yanked both men into a nearby slit trench.  
  
Just then about three more pairs of glowing, lamplike eyes appeared over the dunes. The Gollum energy orb projector team fired several fist size orbs into the compound. Ted fired rounds at them and loaded a 206 grenade into the launcher. He fired it down range and the grenade exploded into the midst of the creatures. A piercing animal like wail of pain shot out over the desert as shrapnel found its mark.  
  
Ives was shooting steadily at something downrange with the MG-70. It was actually pretty funny to see the short Scotsman hanging onto the light machinegun which was almost as big as he was.  
  
"Cease fire! Cease fire!" James Closterman shouted. "Casualties?"  
  
"Casualties?" the question echoed through the group.  
  
"None sir!"  
  
"Right, lets go get a body count with the Land Rovers." Closterman said.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: "I just wonder sometimes about why he left so quickly." Jamie began.  
  
"It's complicated." Zack began, trying not to tell Jamie in so many words what had sent Ted packing.  
  
"You're starting to sound like Ted." Ivy observed.  
  
"Ive," Zack joked, trying to lighten the mood, "I don't have an English accent, a wry sense of humor, or take tea in the afternoon."  
  
"Excuse me man," said a fellow from the other table. He wore blue jeans, a black AC/DC t-shirt with an unbuttoned flannel collared long sleeved shirt over it, "We were sitting one table over and couldn't help but overhear you talk. This Ted wouldn't happen to be Ted Balfour, G Squadron."  
  
"Yeah, how do you know?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Ernest Hockle, B Squadron, 9th Special Forces." The black haired fellow a couple years older than Zack replied, "You must be Ivy, Zack, Jamie, Armando, Chris, and Tatiana."  
  
"How do you know us?" Armando asked.  
  
"Simple, Ted talks about you guys all the time. He always lights up like a Christmas tree whenever he talks about his old friends from ACME." Hockle replied.  
  
"If you guys are in Ted's unit, what are you doing in America? Aren't the 9th Special Forces working in Africa?" Gene Locksley asked.  
  
"They are. But each Special Forces group contributes an entire squadron to the Special Projects Team, the US Army's Counterterrorist unit." Hockle replied.  
  
"Oh yeah, there was an article about that in the Marine Corps Gazette." Gene replied.  
  
"Marine eh?" Hockle grinned, "What battalion."  
  
"3rd Battalion, 2nd Marine Division."  
  
"I was in 2nd Battalion for the 1st Division myself." Hockle replied.  
  
"Whenever Marines go into the Special Forces we make those Army guys look like bags of shit." Gene grinned.  
  
"Gene, you never ran Selection." Ivy said.  
  
"That's because all Marines, to a man, know they can cruise it easy." Gene replied.  
  
"Amen brother." Hockle replied.  
  
Zack rolled his eyes, "They're always like that. The Marines, I mean."  
  
"Before we get into any more arguments as to best service," Hockle said, "I've known Ted since Selection. He was my room mate during that time, and throughout all our training he would yammer nonstop about his friends from ACME."  
  
"That sounds like Ted to me." Jamie replied, "He's certainly one of the nicest, most caring friends I've ever had."  
  
"He says the same thing about you too." Hockle said, "I must admit, I never thought in a million years I'd meet you guys. He always says 'God blessed me with those that I consider my friends' and he not only meant us, but you guys as well. And when you write him back, tell him he owes me twenty credits from our last poker game."  
  
"Sure. I'll let him know." Jamie replied.  
  
"Thanks, much appreciated. Enjoy your meal." Hockle said.  
  
"You too. And be sure if you run into Ted later, tell him American soccer's taking the World Cup!" Zack shouted.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"Give me, God, what you have left. Give me what others don't want. But also give me courage, strength, and faith." Ted whispered into the North African night many miles away.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Sorry this one's a bit disjointed. I'm still working on a million different ideas as they come...  
  
. 


	3. Lili Marlene

Lili Marlene  
  
Disclaimer: Neither the lyrics to Marlene Dietrich's Lili Marlene or the Carmen Sandiego franchise are mine. For all you fans of the ACME group and my other original characters, be patient, this largely from Ted's point of view. Trooper means any Special Forces soldier below the rank of lance corporal. I couldn't resist adding two characters for comic relief (I borrowed Jay and Silent Bob and grafted their personalities to two B Squadron soldiers).  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
2143: The North Africa sun was high in the sapphire blue of sky. The dust and gun smoke seemed to have faded temporarily. It seemed that both sides realized to avoid the heat of the day, fighting instead at dusk and all other hours. The sound of shooting from the frontline seemed to fade. Ted knew it would pick up in an hour's time.  
  
Ted was lying on his back on a cot as the shortwave radio beside his head started to play a song much enjoyed and appreciated by the men of Army Corps Africa. Even though the lyrics were over 200 years old, several young female singers had revived the universal soldier's love song.  
  
"Annette Marina Chavez sure makes this song come back to life, eh?" Ives asked.  
  
"Yeah." Ted replied, not really paying attention. The song was one that brought back memories and thoughts that both inspired and pained him at the same time.  
  
"Underneath the lantern by the barrack gate. Darling I remember the way you used to wait. Twas there that you whispered tenderly. That you loved me. You'd always be. My Lili of the lamplight. My own Lili Marlene." Chavez began.  
  
Ted smiled to himself, a small, sad smile. He was happy Jamie was enjoying her relationship with Chris, but he was sad that his feelings weren't returned. He was hoping for a mission, something, anything to take his mind off the pain and loneliness he was enduring at the time. Hell even kitchen duty would hit the spot.  
  
"Time would come for roll call. Time for us to part. Darling I'd caress you and press you to my heart. And there 'neath that far off lantern light. I'd hold you tight. We'd kiss good-night. My Lili of the lamplight. My own Lili Marlene." Ted started singing along to himself with the second verse, as were a half dozen other soldiers in the hangar.  
  
Ted wondered how she was doing. Very likely, Mr. Perfect was making her life a field of roses and flowers, making sure she'd forget the lone soldier in Africa named Ted Balfour. He had to leave, he knew if didn't the pain of being in such close proximity with the girl of his dreams who didn't share his feelings would really complicate things. He wasn't sure if leaving was all that much better.  
  
"You'll always be my Lili Marlene." Ted whispered to himself, "The Colonel would really have a fit that I'm moping about this."  
  
Ted could just imagine the Colonel's stern disapproving look he'd give his grandchildren or children whenever they displeased him. He was a man universally respected by subordinate, peer, and family member alike. But there seemed to be regret in his eyes every day of his life.  
  
What did he have to regret? Ted wondered as he grew up. He had a family that adored and respected him, four children, all upstanding citizens, a son in law that was the mayor of Liverpool, and a wife that genuinely loved him.  
  
"What's wrong?" Tashtego said, taking his seat on his adjacent cot.  
  
"Nothing mate." Ted replied. Tashtego heard Lili Marlene playing over the sound system somebody from A Squadron installed in the hangar when the deployment started in May, "Just a stupid crush."  
  
"Affairs of the heart are never stupid, my friend." Tashtego replied with his damnable native wisdom.  
  
"The Colonel always used to say, 'Grandson, never let anyone, not your subordinates or peers see you weak for any length of time.' He was with the 1st Special Forces after transferring from the 6th Ranger Battalion. He was also known for saying, 'The life of the Special Forces soldier is inherently lonely.'" Ted replied.  
  
"He wasn't lonely, he had you guys." Tashtego replied.  
  
"Yes, but I couldn't help but notice, as I got older, there seemed to be a deep seated regret in his eyes." Ted replied.  
  
"Regret?" Tashtego asked.  
  
"There was a girl he fell in love with while he was at Sandhurst. She was everything he wanted in a woman, beautiful, intelligent, caring..." Ted replied, "But his father didn't approve of her because she wasn't English. He never told her he loved her, and they parted ways."  
  
"You really love her don't you?" Tashtego said.  
  
Ted nodded as the next verse began to play, "Orders came for sailing somewhere over there. All confined to barracks was more than I could bear. I knew you were waiting in the street. I heard your feet. But could not meet. My Lili of the lamplight. My own Lili Marlene."  
  
"But she's with Chris and she really loves him." Ted replied, "I can only imagine what she'd even think to see in me."  
  
"Have faith, you will find love one day." Tashtego said.  
  
"Resting in a billet just behind the line. Even tho' we're parted your lips are close to mine. You wait where that lantern softly gleams. Your sweet face seems to haunt my dreams. My Lili of the lamplight. My own Lili Marlene."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
Sitting in her apartment many miles away Jamie was listening to the radio and she heard the song. Ivy was working on another case she and Jamie at the computer. "I can't help but say that this song reminds me of Ted."  
  
"C'mon," Ivy said, "Let's go get some coffee."  
  
"I suppose you're right." Jamie said, "We've been up pretty late."  
  
"Don't you and Chris have a date tonight?" Ivy asked.  
  
"We do. I hope its someplace fun, but I wouldn't mind a quiet evening at home, a little soft music on the stereo, a home cooked meal..." Jamie began as they walked down to the coffee shop.  
  
They took a table at Starbucks and sat down to talk. Jamie was busy writing something on her legal pad, when Chris walked behind her and said, "Guess who? For Ted luv?"  
  
"Hey dude," said a fellow with longish blonde hair, "You don't happen to mean a guy stationed in North Africa right?"  
  
"What unit's he in?" Jamie asked.  
  
"He's the English dude in G-Squadron.....He's one weird mother...." the soldier began, his companion, a tubby, bearded fellow nodded.  
  
"There are ladies here mate, don't swear." Chris replied.  
  
"Hey English dude, get a life man." Jay replied, "You British dudes are way too uptight."  
  
"Yes, Englishmen are uptight, but I'm Australian." Chris replied.  
  
"Same difference, you drink your booze with a pinkie in the air and shit." Jay replied.  
  
"I'm really not liking this..." Chris began, trying to control his temper.  
  
"Please excuse my friends here." Said a third guy, a Cajun evidently from B Squadron, "I'm Rodney Danvers, B Squadron Sergeant Major. Jay and Silent Bob are good soldiers out in the field but they're a little irregular everywhere else."  
  
"So we've noticed." Ivy began.  
  
"They're Troopers Jason Kovak and Robert Pargos." Danvers replied, "I really have to police those two numbskulls when they're out on pass."  
  
"JAY! SILENT BOB!" shouted Chief Inspector Cobb, the head of ACME HQ, "GET BACK HERE NOW AND PICK EVERY ONE OF THOSE PRAWNS OUT OF MY CAR!"  
  
"Whoops, gotta bounce. Flee fatass flee!!!!" Jay shouted.  
  
"And these are the elite of the US military, the guys that will be our backup on the counterterrorism team?" Chris said, raising his eyebrows, "I'm definitely buying that new insurance policy."  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
"When we are marching in the mud and cold, And when my pack seems more than I can hold. My love for you renews my might. I'm warm again. My pack is light. It's you Lili Marlene. It's you Lili Marlene."  
  
Somewhere in the North African desert, Ted smiled, sadly, but it was still a smile nonetheless. Just thinking of Jamie as the good friend she was to him was enough to make him smile despite himself.  
  
~ ~ ~ ~  
  
AN: I'll go into more detail as this fic continues. But basically the active Special Forces groups pull one squadron a piece to form the Special Projects/Counterterrorism unit behind friendly lines. They work with police/defense/intelligence agencies like ACME. 


End file.
